What We Carry
by ReaderGeek471579
Summary: Sam has been hunting with his brother for 14 years now and he's collected a little box of mementos over the years. Each one has a special meaning to him. They remind him of who he was, who he became, what it took to get him there, and those that walked with him along that path. He doesn't know yet but his family has things they carry too.
1. Chapter 1

_This could possibly be a mulit-chapter but for right now, Sam needs some time for himself. Spoilers until about 14x01._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just borrowing. _

The bunker was the most crowded it had ever been and Sam just couldn't take it anymore. That was an hour or so ago. Since he had snuck out of the library he'd been quietly listening to music in his room and looking through what Dean had called his Box of Treasures. Dean... that brought him back to his brother, like most things did.

Jack had been willing to sacrifice himself to save the family he'd found. Sam had jumped in to save Jack without even thinking but Dean? Dean had made the ultimate sacrifice.

Sam lifted the lid of the wooden box in his hands. It was about the size of a child sized shoebox and only about half full. He gently brushed aside Dean's amulet and a Moondor patch Charlie had given him at the last mid-year jubilee before she'd gone on the run (then died for a chance to save Dean).

Reverently, almost as if he was handling a priceless scroll of pre-biblical lore, Sam lifted a pamphlet from Oak Park Retirement Community and held it briefly afraid to open it. It was from the banshee case he and Dean had worked with Eileen a few years back. Inside, Sam knew, was the letter she'd written to him and Dean. The letter they'd only gotten after she'd already been killed.

Eileen. He'd failed her too. He'd failed her before he'd even gotten to spend any quality time with her. That hadn't stopped him from continuing to study ASL, even after Eileen was gone. It was his way of honoring the brave woman who not only refused to be defined by a disability she just happened to live with but had turn it into a strength.

Placing the pamphlet next to him on the bed along with Dean's amulet, the Moondor patch and a few odds and ends, Sam reached back into the box. Dean might make fun of him for it but these little odds and ends, reminded Sam of all the paths his life had taken and the people – and in some cases, creatures – that had come in and out of his life. In some cases, a few of them stuck around for a while or came back through every once in a while, just to remind him of his connection to this dark, bloody, world he loved so much.

The old polaroid that Sam pulled out of the box brought him back to a time before angels and demons. Back when this was the only world he had to worry about, and gods were more of an obscure piece of lore and THE God was the hope that there was something better after his work here was done. The polaroid was of the first people he and Dean had saved – from a wendigo back in '05 – after he'd gotten back into hunting … the first time.

It was of Hailey Collins and her brothers. Tommy and Ben hunted together now since Tommy'd survived Crowley's purge of the people the Winchester'd saved (with his brother's help, of course) and called about a case every now and then. Hailey, on the other hand, still hunted with her brothers once in a while but mostly, she stuck with her work a social worker out of Hibbing – yes, that Hibbing. She was the only social worker, as far as they knew who helped kids effected by the supernatural and she'd started a network that almost rivaled Bobby's network.

Next came a polished angel blade that could've belonged to either Anna or Balthazar. No it was definitely Balthazar's angel blade. Who else would've bothered to carve more eonian into the handle? He should ask Cas for a more accurate translation than 'don't touch' but he didn't want to cause his angel brother any more pain than confronting the weapon of a fallen angelic brother would cause him. Cas was a member of an endangered species now.

Come to think of it, Sam was sure that Anna's angel blade was one of the many in the bunker's armory… if other world Bobby hadn't melted it down yet to make angel killing bullets. He'd have to have a word with this new Bobby, and probably some of the other world hunters, about distinguishing the good angels from the bad ones. A lesson on sensitivity would probably be in order while he was at it.

Placing Balthazar's polished angel blade on the table beside his bed next to Ruby's demon knife and the angel blade from one of heaven's many foot soldiers that they'd defeated over the years, Sam thought back on the angels, and demons, and creatures who had gone against their very nature to stand with humanity; to stand with Team Free Will. Castiel, the angel of the lord who had literally pulled both brothers from hell and was now more than an ally. He was their brother.

Meg. She was the first demon they had ever met. She'd tried to kill Dad. He'd done a lot of evil but in the end she'd sacrificed to herself to Crowley in order help them rescue Cas and get away.

In the end, hadn't that been Crowley's end himself? He'd grown from the king of the crossroads demons to someone willing to give up his own life to save Dean and Sam Winchester.

Gabriel. The only archangel who really got the whole point of this humanity thing. The youngest of the archangels who'd died twice, and gone through years of torture in hell, all because he believed in humanity. The archangel who just wanted his brothers to stop fighting. He wanted heaven but Gabriel had died for humanity.

Then there was Balthazar. The serph who, though he'd never admit it, just wanted all the fighting to be over. He'd run away from the problems that faced him; taken some of daddy's toys from home and run away. And yet, when the odds were stacked against them, and the fight for humanity was kicking up, he hadn't turned and run. No, Balthazar had stayed and fought. He'd died fighting. He tried and in the end, wasn't that the whole point?

In the very bottom of the box were two beat up business cards that had definitely seen better days, one for Sheriff Jody Mills and one for Sheriff Donna Hannscum a tattered copy of The Hobbit. The bunker had 2 copies of this particular book... 3 if you counted the first edition in the library. Charlie's copy was one of the few non-lore related books on the bookshelf in Dean's room; but this one?

This was Kevin's. Mrs. Tran had given it to Cas to bring to them after Chuck had freed Kevin from the veil. Cas and Dean were the only ones - as far as he knew - who knew he still had it but neither of them had ever asked about it. Sam opened to the cover page to briefly reread Mrs Tran's neat handwriting. "Thank you for giving my boy the brothers he never had."

Sniffing back a stubborn tear, Sam flipped past several pictures and notes from Jody's girls tucked between the pages. About halfway through the book, the piece of paper he was looking for stuck out. Pulling it out, Sam reread Bobby's letter. As always, it was that last line that helped the most.

"Stay safe, keep fighting, and kick it in the ass. ~ Bobby"


	2. Chapter 2

_Dean was feeling left out so he's getting a chapter. Of course, once I started writing Dean was being difficult because… ya know, feeling aren't something he can shoot. Yes Dean, we know you'd try. _

_Spoiler: through 14x02. Season 14 doesn't give us fic writers much space to fill in so I'm working with what I've got._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just borrowing because my imagination wouldn't let it go._

He was clean and back in his own clothes. He was never one to be overly concerned about fashion, but the jeans, black t-shirt, and dark flannel had never felt so good after the suits. Yeah sure, he'd told Sammy that he didn't remember and mostly he didn't. There were a few flashes and that was enough.

He probably should get Cas to dig through what was left of Michael's memories to see if they could figure out what the hell that scar was on his arm but right now all Dean wanted was his family. That and some time with his own memories. Mom was still in Deluth with AU Bobby but at least his brothers and kid were here.

Reaching into the bottom drawer of the desk in his room, he pulled out an old cigar box. It was held together with duct tape and hope but it was what he needed to bring up the specific memories he wanted rather than getting bogged down in the nightmarish ones.

Closing his eyes trying to think of a prayer to call out to Cas but nothing came up. He opened his eyes and pulled Charlie's copy of The Hobbit from the bookshelf before taking the few steps required for his long gait to reach the door to his room. It was time Jack get to know this story anyways.

He supposed that he should be surprised especially at how soundlessly a giant like his brother could move when he wanted to but years of experience had taught him that Sammy knew him, better than anyone else. Of course, Sammy would know that Dean needed family time. What did shock him however was to find Cas and Jack waiting in the middle of the hallway just outside his room as well.

Sam held up a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a six pack of beer in the other. "Which one?"

"Probably just the beer." Dean said not missing the look of concern that flashed across his family's faces before they moved out of the way to let Dean step out into the hallway and Sam put the whiskey bottle against the wall in Dean's room. They all knew it wasn't a healthy habit, but they also knew it wasn't one that was likely to change anytime soon.

Sam straightened up and closed the door behind them before falling into the tight little knot in the middle of the hallway. They hesitated there for a while before Dean handed Jack the book, he'd tucked under his arm only to replace it with the kid himself. He needed Jack to know that what happened to him – whatever Michael had done while wearing him – wasn't his fault. Dean would've said yes to Michael to save any one of his family.

Before he knew it, they were at Baby and Sam was handing him the keys. Even though he was reluctant to let go of Jack he took the keys and let the boy slide into his usual spot in the back seat. Cas had slid in behind Jack before Sam even made it around to the other side of the car and said, "The other world hunters will leave us alone if you don't feel up to a drive."

When they were all settled in their customary spots, Dean tucked the keys in his pocket and spoke to the steering wheel feeling the eyes of his family on him. "I know it's kinda weird but I'd rather stay right here."

"Of course, Dean." Sam said at the same time that Cas said, "Do you want us to go?"

The panic in his voice was not as well hidden as he looked up and caught two pair of blue eyes in the rear-view mirror. "Please don't. … I … I need you here."

Sam's big hand landed on his shoulder and Dean didn't break eye contact with the angels in the back seat. There weren't any words needed. Well, not immediately as Jack curled his legs under him and Sam withdrew his hand to accept the book of lore Cas handed him. Cas for his part took a worn, leather bound book from one of the inside pockets of his trench coat. They all settled in for as long as they were needed.

Dean smiled his first real smile in a while. His family wasn't going anywhere, and he just sat there staring at the box in his hands for a few minutes.

It wasn't exceptionally full, at least not of physical things. Charlie's copy of The Hobbit was the biggest memento that he kept, and he was seriously considering passing that on to Jack. Charlie would've loved Jack. He always had a Moondoor patch in the top of this box as a physical reminder of the girl who'd become a little sister.

Opening the box and pulling out the patch itself he thought back to the amazingly brave woman. Their Charlie's story had started much in the same way that AU Charlie's story had but their Charlie had so much more love and joy in her life and she'd radiated that joy and courage with every breath she took. Then she'd gone and sacrificed herself … and for him none the less. He didn't deserve that kind of love.

He knew exactly what Sam would say to that so before he could get himself caught up in anymore thoughts that might bring him to tears, he moved the patch aside and looked up briefly to see Sam watching him. They exchanged a sad smile, both knowing that Sam had seen and understood the importance of every item in the box at a glance. They weren't all items that would stand out as important to just anyone but, the Winchesters weren't just anyone.

As Sam turned back to his book, Dean turned in his seat to partially face the back. "Hey, kid?"

Jack looked up and tucked a finger between the pages to mark his spot and gave his dad his full attention. Dean was momentarily struck by the similarities that look held to one of Sam's. "Remind me to tell you about our Charlie someday. That was her book and I think you autta know about her. Actually, if you want, Cas could share some of his memories of her. It might be faster than doing it the human way."

"Dean." Cas said, in the tone that both humans in the car privately called his exasperated nanny tone. "You know I don't like implanting memories other than in life or death scenarios."

It was about to turn into one of their comfortable arguments until Jack said, "I'd rather hear it from you, Dean. Whenever you're ready to talk."

"Thanks kid." Jack's smile healed him more than he would've been able to put into words. "Maybe tonight once everyone's settled down."

Jack just nodded and everyone silently turned back to their respective books as Dean pulled himself back around to face front as he pulled out the small voodoo doll that Rowena had given him to play with back when she and Sam had saved him from that memory spell.

Rowena McLeod and her son Crowley – or Fergus McLeod to use his given name – had been constants in their lives almost more so than some of their allies. He didn't really know how to feel about either of them a lot of the time. Crowley had sacrificed himself to get him, Cas, and Sam back to their own world on the night Jack was born and Rowena?

Well, Rowena liked to joke about being Auntie Rowena stepping in to fix their problems. Dean wasn't entirely sure that it was completely a joke. He wasn't sure if he could call it the love he'd have for an aunt since he could barely remember a family outside of Sam … and Dad for a little while. Either way Rowena was one of the few people left outside of his immediate family that he could now say that he truly trusted 100%. Yes, even after that whole 'kill the reapers' kick she'd gone on.

Other than one of Dad's old cell phones, a pair of some of his and Sammy's first fake badges, and Pastor Jim's clerical collar, there were some charms Bobby had given him and Sam before they'd gotten their anti-possession tattoos. Bobby. Out of all the deaths that had happened in the Winchester's career as hunters. That one had hit him hard.

They'd grown up calling him Uncle Bobby and he'd been the closest thing he and Sammy had to a traditional father figure. And he'd told him as such. The man had been a gruff drunk, but he'd been dedicated to his chosen family and he was a good man. One of the best Dean Winchester had ever known. Hell, the man had even gone so far as to doge his reaper and allow himself to become a ghost just to protect his boys.

Right next to the charms was what looked, at first glance, like a small pile of small pieces of paper neatly held together with a paperclip. This little stack of papers held symbolized two families the Winchesters had made for themselves, one they'd lost years ago, and one they were trying very hard not to lose. Loss. It was a common theme in a Winchester's life – and apparently a Campbell's life. Loss like those, well… they left scars. Not the physical kind. Those he could deal with.

Pulling the paperclip off, Dean ran a thumb first over Jody's business card then Donna's. Who'd ever thought that Dean Winchester would count not one but two sheriffs as members of his family. These two women, who couldn't be more different, exuded love in all aspects of their life. Donna was definitely an aunt figure not just to him and Sam but to the girls that Jody had taken him in.

That thought brought him to the two pictures that were next in the stack. The first one was of one Donna had given him of her and Jody with Claire, Alex, and Patience after they'd rescued him and Sam from The Bad Place. His only regret about this picture was that it hadn't been taken earlier when Kia was alive so that she could be in it, but the picture made him smile none the less. These girls, they were the hunters this world needed now, and the monsters better watch out.

The next picture had both Sam and Cas breath catching in their throat. It was the original Team Free Will back when Bobby was still in the wheelchair. It was taken the night before Jo and Ellen had died. Another sacrifice to be put against him. The Roadhouse had been – outside of Baby and Bobby's – had been the first real home the Winchesters had really known and the family they'd made there had, for better or worse, made him who he was today. Their deaths still hurt.

Without looking he passed the picture over to Sam and he tried not to listen as Cas explained the story to Jack. Who these people were and what they had meant to Team Free Will. As if the loss of three, four counting Bobby, could be described in a brief conversation over a crumpled picture. Still Castiel, the Angel of the Lord who raised him from Hell, tried and he loved him for that.

That thought brought him to a stained and yellowing cardboard coaster. Flipping it over he smiled at the address in Ash's characteristically messy scrawl for some random case Dean didn't even remember. The address itself didn't even really matter anymore. It was more about the fact that it was in Ash's handwriting. That and the note written in the same messy scrawl just below the address. "Kick it in the ass, boys! – Dr Bad Ass"

Finding Ash's body in the rubble of the still smoking roadhouse after Azazel had taken Sammy had almost killed him. The only thing he could compare that feeling to was watching Gadreel use Sammy's body to kill Kevin and those two events had been about a decade apart if not more. That brought him to the last item in the box.

To anyone else, it just looked like a small block of amber but not to him. It was a piece of resin that Dean had picked up at a music shop two years ago when out on that banshee case with Eileen simply because it'd reminded him of Kevin. Eileen had been with him at the time while Sam had been picking up some more lore books and hadn't pushed him for an explanation.

They'd lost so many good people along the way. There was a lot of pain and darkness on their path; both behind them and definitely ahead of them before they were done. Still, there were people like the ones represented by these little mementoes and the ones they saved that made all the pain worth it.

And in the end, that was enough; to know that they had made a difference. That they were loved. Wasn't it?

Jack placed a hand gently on Dean's shoulder to hand him back the picture of the original Team Free Will and it hit Dean. It hit him as he collected everything neatly back into the box. This whole Family Business; the saving people, hunting things. This was why they did it.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: All standard disclaimers apply. I own nothing etc… _

_Warning: Cas has a LOT to say so buckle up! This Angel of the Lord has a LONG memory. :)_

They'd only been sitting in silence in the Impala for a little over a minute before Sam reached down to his feet and pulled the six pack of beers up between him and Dean. Without bothering to ask, he passed one first to Dean then two back to Cas and Jack. At the hiss of four beer bottles being opened and Dean reaching over to shove his duct taped cigar box of memories into the glove box.

Everyone drank in silence for a few moments before Jack asked cautiously. "Sam and Dean have memory boxes. Do you have a box, Cas?"

"That would be a pretty full box, kid." Dean said with absolutely no trace of malice in his voice.

Sam smiled and turned in his seat so he could look back to where Jack sat behind Dean. "We tend to forget that Cas is a celestial being whose memory stretches back not just to the dawn of mankind but to the dawn of creation."

At the look of awe on Jack's face Dean shifted his gaze in the rearview mirror to his friend. He already suspected he knew the answer wasn't going to be one Jack expected. Cas smiled that cautious smile of his, meeting Dean's eyes in the rearview mirror before turning to face the young Nephilim beside him. "I am very old. Much older than this vessel would lead you to believe."

Without any further warning Cas opened the door next to him and pushed his way out of the Impala, reaching over and handing his beer to Sam as he went. To the untrained observer, that would've been the end of the conversation but not the Winchesters. They knew their angel.

Jack had barely asked "Was it something I said?" before the angel in question was folding himself back into his spot behind Dean. This time, the ever-present trench coat was folded neatly in his lap as he settled in. Sam's smile shifted from curious to amusing and Dean's expression must've done something similar because Cas nodded to both of them.

"I do in fact, have quite a few mementos of my time here on earth. Unlike Sam and Dean, I carry mine with me at all times." Castiel smoothed his hands gently over the tan trench coat before reaching up and accepting his beer back from Sam. The amber liquid had no effect on him – nor anyone in the car really – it was more the courage he needed to revisit these memories.

As Dean turned in his seat and took another drag off the beer in his hand, Cas spoke again. "Sam is correct. I do remember all of human history. I remember Paradise – what you would call Heaven – before The Fall, before Father created the world; before he created man."

Cas could feel this new – well new in his sense of time – family watching him. Not so much with awe that most humans who believed in the divine looked on Angels of the Lord. It was more a love and a respect he hadn't felt since his time with the Heavenly Host before he was sent to retrieve a righteous soul from hell. Reaching into the innermost pocket he pulled out everything that was in that pocket in one big handful.

Shifting the few items in his hands, he separated a golden colored plastic kazoo that was bound to break the longer he kept it on him but for now, it reminded him of an older brother. The older brother that first taught him the importance of humanity and Free Will; of four older brothers that he loved and lost. When he spoke, he spoke to the plastic toy in his hand.

"I remember standing on the shore, watching a grey fish heave itself up out of the water and an older brother reminding me not to step on it. Father had big plans for that fish." He looked up at Sam who, as he expected, understood first. It wasn't so much about the fish that eventually evolved into humans but the brother that had been standing by his side. "You've heard Michael talk about how he practically raised Lucifer because Father wasn't around."

"It's not a memory either of us are bound to forget." Dean said right as he got the connection.

"I learned everything I knew when I came to earth. Everything I was before I raised Dean Winchester from perdition, I learned from the archangels, but it was Gabriel who I was closest to. He seemed to take a liking to myself and a few others. Gabriel raised me to have a mind of my own, but it wasn't until I met the Winchesters that I learned what that truly means."

Sam looked over to Dean as Jack said it. "Gabriel was your Dean. He was your big brother and he raised you."

Dean and Jack both took long drinks on their beers as Sam watched Cas turning the kazoo over his hands. He'd always thought that Cas and Dean had the most in common but now he was realizing that Cas was a little brother too the main difference was that he'd had eons with his brother rather than decades. Sam knew firsthand what it was like to lose his big brother and he wouldn't wish that on anyone, least of all their best friend.

Cas carefully placed the kazoo back in the pocket it had come from and took another drink. "Gabriel wasn't like the other archangels. But then, you know that. He believed in humanity, right from the start. He believed in joy, love, and play – emotions that do not come naturally to angels. Well, cherubs were created to recognize connections. I believe that is why humans call them cupids."

Dean smiled around his beer. Cas sidetracking himself with random tangents. "But a kazoo, Cas? Not a picture?"

Cas smoothed his free hand over the trench coat in his lap again. The small leather-bound book still pressed between the beer bottle and his hand like he was afraid it was going to vanish if he let it go. "An angel's vessel is not always a reflection of their being. Gabriel taught us to choose our vessels carefully – a lesson that a few of us remembered. You remember how Anna was born into her vessel when she ripped out her grace. That wasn't quite what Gabriel had in mind."

"Wait," Dean paused readjusting so he and Sam were both facing the middle of the Impala's front seat so that all four of them could talk easily. "You keep saying we. Who is we?"

Cas carefully placed his beer at his feet and stretched back up to place the small book on his coat so that at least Jack could see that there were items sticking out of the book at all angles. The book itself was tied close with a broken hair tie. "My brothers and sisters. Michael and Lucifer were too busy to notice us outside of training. Raphel called us the broken ones who had trouble learning the rules and he tried splitting us up and assigning us to different Legions. I can't say that worked out too well in his favor."

"What about Gabriel?" Jack asked as Cas carefully untied the band holding the book closed on his lap and pulled out a stack of delicate feathers as the book expanded.

"Are those angel feathers?" Sam asked. On Cas' nod Sam continued as he recognized the black feather as one of Cas' from one of the times Cas had donated a feather for a spell. "Angels don't shed feathers for no reason."

"No." Cas said, "No we don't. I lost two retrieving Dean from Hell but to answer your question Jack, Gabriel saw the six of us as the best heaven had to offer. I'm not sure he was correct as I killed two of my brothers myself. There are only two of us left now."

"Cas," Dean said. Stretching to reach behind him and place a hand on his friend's shoulder, or as close as he could reach. "Samandriel and Balthazar's deaths aren't on your hands. We've talked about this, but I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it. You weren't in control of yourself at the time and I'm sure your brothers would tell you that too."

Cas looked up and met first Dean's eyes then slid over to where Sam and Jack were watching them, before slipping back to the feathers in his lap. They all had blood on their hands but as Dean's arm withdrew and settled back into his seat, Cas realized. That wasn't the point of this exercise.

Jack needed to know a little more about his history and the family that had come before him. This was the best, if not most painful, way to share those memories. So, he picked up the first gold feather, a small gold one from the top of Gabriel's first of four sets of wings. "As an archangel, Gabriel had a unique ability. Unique even to archangels."

Carefully handing the golden feather into Jack's careful hands, he shifted his attention to Sam and Dean. "You've seen Gabriel create matter out of thin air."

When they both nodded, Dean cringing a little from the memory of being sent into different tv shows, Cas continued. "It's an ability that all of the archangels share but Gabriel is the only one that can use that ability to the extent that he does – I mean, did. He did not want to ask Father to create a family line of potential vessels like He did for Michael and Lucifer, and he did not want to leave any vessels a wasted husk after containing the cosmic power that is an archangel. Gabriel built his own vessel. The vessel that you met was his second one. Built in the likeness of the Norse god Lok."

"Gabriel built his own vessel … twice?" Sam's insatiable thirst for knowledge clicked on light a switch but Cas could see him restraining himself from asking how. That would have to be a conversation for a later date.

For right now he nodded and, pulling a larger white feather, he nodded. "He built one for Samandriel as well. That one was more recently, about ten or twelve years ago. The first vessel he built was in the model of a potter who was killed by the Romans in a place you would call Israel; Nazareth to be more specific. Gabriel can't – couldn't – really create matter with nothing to model it on. He can make copies, exact copies but still copies. I believe Samandriel's vessel was built … well, his second one at least was based on a teenager out of Oklahoma who was trying to convince his parents that he had a responsibility to hunt after surviving a supernatural curse of bug attacks."

"Samandriel was first sent to earth sometime in the early 1950s to aid a young Man of Letters. Winchesters have always been a handful and Henry Winchester was no different. Most mortals who require guardian angels are sent lower rank angels but the Campbells and a few of the Winchesters needed a little extra help so some of us Seraphim were sent." Sam's eyes flashed with a memory of Henry talking about how part of the spell that had brought him to the future involved an angel's feather. "Samandriel took the form of a much older Man of Letters who was dying in order to aid your grandfather, even leaving him with a feather he might need for a spell. He attempted to heal his vessel before he left but there was too much damage from the man's terminal illness. Samandriel was at least able to ease the old man's passing."

Passing two the white feather to Jack, who arranged it almost reverently next to the golden one he still held, Cas picked up the next two feathers. One was a deep, the brilliant blue of angel grace but in physical form and the other was almost burgundy. Handing the burgundy one to Jack first he said, "Anna was the most enthralled out of all of us of Gabriel's stories about humanity but then you know that story. I promise to tell you some day if you want to hear but you must promise never to take such drastic actions as to rip out your own grace."

"I promise." Jack said holding the angel feathers for the precious treasure that they were. "If I do ever get all of my grace back. I will only use it for good."

"You will get your grace back." Dean said to Jack then saw the brilliant blue feather still in Cas' hand. "Wait. Is that one who I think it is?"

"Yes," Cas said, bending briefly to lift his beer and finish it off in a few long drags before Sam's long arm extended into his field of vision to take the empty. Waving off the last beer and thanking Sam, Cas continued. "This is from Anael but you know her as Sister Jo. She gave me this feather while we were watching over Nathaniel and Hariett Campbell who were hunting a wendigo in Colorado right after their wedding. Anael wasn't always like you know her now. Her experiences here on earth changed her. She was a good brother in arms."

Dean, for once decided to refrain from commenting on just what he though about Sister Jo. Jack however asked, as he accepted Anael's feather that Cas was handing him. "You called Anael both 'brother' and 'sister' but she's a she. Isn't she? Just like you're a you?"

Cas looked over and nodded understanding the question that Jack couldn't quite put into words. "Humans are the ones who usually need the gender specifications. Angels aren't human even though our vessels are and as such we aren't restrained by gender norms as humans and nephlim are."

At Jack's confused looks, Cas smiled, tucked the final feather briefly behind the book, and reached to the page he knew well. It was the last one written on very near the end but not quite. Pulling out a small old photograph and two equally as old clippings from a newspaper. It was a picture of his first vessel, the same one he had used when he served with Ishim.

Handing both the picture and the obituaries over to Jack, he said. "That female was my first vessel. Her name was Jessa. The male was Anael's, though not her first. My brother took quite a few 'vacations' on earth throughout human history. She liked walking among the humans almost as much as the archangel who taught us the value of humanity."

"Jessa was a photographer who traveled with her husband, Landon Rory, a reporter out of Chicago. They traveled quite often for their stories so we Anael and I hand an arrangement with them." Cas cringed at the terminology. An 'arrangement' was one step away from a 'deal' and demons made deals; not angels. He shook it off and went on. "Jessa and Landon would agree to be our vessels when our missions on earth required interaction with humans. In turn, we would answer their prayers and protect them when we could. I believe that we did the best that we could. It seemed sometimes, that Jessa and Landon actually went looking for trouble. The actually assisted the Campbells on a few hunts and I'm not sure but I believe Landon came across a Winchester or two."

As the obituaries that Jack was now passing up to Sam mentioned, Jessa and Landon Rory had died peacefully within hours of each other at the ages of 112 and 113 respectively. They had died surrounded by their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. The photograph had already made its way over to Dean who effortlessly cut the tension and lifted the mood in the car with a well-timed remark. "Cas! You were hot!"

Cas smiled and unfurled himself a little from where he'd sank into Baby's back seat as the difficult conversation had started to affect him. Accepting the picture and obituaries Dean was handing back to him, he said, "Thank you, Dean. Jessa was quite an attractive vessel."

Before the conversation could stray into the awkward Sam asked the question that he, and everyone else in the car, already knew the answer to. "Who's that last feather from, Cas?"

The fizz of the last beer being opened made Cas look up. He hadn't even seen Dean down the fifth and Sam collect the empties. Dean just smiled at him and handed him the last beer. He downed half the bottle in one long drag before pulling the last feather forward and placing it gently on top of the book.

Running his hand over the rich amber color. Balthazar. The brother who had seen the story for what he was, taken Father's more dangerous tools from a heaven that couldn't be trusted anymore and run away. Of course, Cas hadn't seen that at the time but… "Balthazar. He was the best of us; though, I didn't know it at the time."

Jack placed a hand on his over where it rested on the feather. Looking up into compassionate blue eyes that almost mirrored the guilt in Cas' eyes eased a bit at Jack's words. "You're the best angel I know."

"I'm the only angel you really know." Cas said, smiling his first true smile in hours. Handing the deep amber colored feather to Jack who placed it with the others in the small collection that rested on top of Charlie's copy of The Hobbit that still rested safely in Jack's lap. "You remind me of a young Marine, Jack. He was a young Marine that Balthazar shared memories of with me."

"John Winchester was a good man and a good Marine. Balthazar spent a lot of time with him, both in the vessel of Marines who's passing he eased by taking over their vessel as they died and just simply walking by John's side. They were on a battlefield that the humans called 'Nam. Balthazar didn't take his final vessel until he was sure that John was safely back home."

"Safe is a relative term where Winchesters are concerned." Dean mumbled into his lap before looking up first at Sam whole smiled as the question almost physically formed itself in Dean's mind. Revelations this big took a while for anyone to register and watching a friend struggle with a memory overrode everything else, until the question made it through the concern. "Wait a minute, you're not the first angel to have to put up with a Winchester in close quarters like this?"

"Far from it." Cas smiled. "Your mother was right. Angels _were_ watching over you, Dean. You as well, Sam. Angels have always been watching over the Winchesters. The Campbells as well."

Jack took Balthazar's feather as Cas handed it to him and arranged it neatly on top of Charlie's book. The sight made Cas think of the only other item that stuck out in his book. Dean was handing back the obituaries and picture of his first vessel when Cas looked up again. Tucking the relics from his first vessel back into their spot, he pulled out the origami fortune teller that Charlie had made the first time he'd met her. He met Sam's eyes when he looked up. "I should have insisted on going with her."

Sam gave him an understanding look. They'd had this conversation before but that didn't mean that Cas could ever really let go of the guilt. The angel was a Winchester after all; crippling guilt was kind of build into … as Charlie would call it, it was built into their coding. Before Sam could even respond, Jack's bright but careful voice piped up. "What's that?"

"It is a paper device used to divine the future." Cas said shifting his attention to the nephilim next to him. "I'm not certain how it works but it belonged to Charlie. The same Charlie who's book you're holding and who died because I wasn't there to protect her."

Lifting the broken hair band from the place it was resting on his trench coat and showing it to Jack along with the fortune teller. "Many died because of either my blind trust in the divine plan or simply from my inattention. I was trained by archangels and yet good people died because of me."

"Cas –" Dean started but changed course when those haunted blue eyes looked up at him. "Do you really think any of those people whose deaths your blaming yourself for would tell you anything different than what you've told Sam and me when we go down that same road?"

"Even Ellen and Jo?" Cas asked in a quiet voice, running the broken hair tie between his fingers. "I was supposed to be their backup. I can see hell hounds…"

"Especially Ellen and Jo." Sam said interrupting Cas' train of thought as he trailed off. "You've done a lot of good in your time on earth."

"I've also done a lot of bad." Cas said but shook his head as if to ward off that particular line of thought and placed the hair tie safely in the front of the worn leather book.

It was silent while Cas downed the rest of his beer – more for want of time to collect his thoughts than anything else – and handed the empty back up to Sam. The book. As far as he knew, not even Sam or Dean knew he had it. "I've known quite a few prophets in my time. I've even walked with a few of the writers of what the Christians call The New Testament."

"Then there was Kevin Tran." Opening the well-loved book to his favorite page, Cas ran his fingers over a few lines of Enochian. "Angels are not supposed to have favorites but Kevin was certainly my favorite. He was different than all the others. He truly cared not just about the work or the humans he could help but even about a fallen angel like me."

Hold the book out so Jack and the Winchesters could see the pages, Cas took a deep breath to prepare for a confession he hadn't put into words to anyone…. Well, to any human. "I never mentioned it but Kevin sensed that I missed the chance to read and write my native language. There aren't many humans who can read and write Enochian fluently and angels are rather scarce these days. Kevin took the time, admits all of his duties as a prophet to write this book for me. It's not as profound or deep as many of the books on angels in the library."

"Kevin was a good man." The guilt Sam carried about Gadreel using him to kill the Winchester's favorite prophet seeped through in every word. Dean and Cas knew better than to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault. It was a guilt they all knew well. "He didn't want you to feel alone."

Cas nodded and passed the book to Jack to flip through. Jack could understand spoken Enochian spoken through angel radio thanks to his angelic half, though, Cas wasn't sure how much the nephilim could read of the angelic language. Learning to write it was another exercise entirely.

Jack, for his part, took the book as reverently as he had handled the angel feathers. Cas and the Winchesters watched him as he arranged the feathers gently back in the exact order that they had been in when Cas had taken them from the book in the first place.

Once everything was back in its proper place and the book was secured shut again with the hair tie, Jack handed the book back to Cas saying, "Could you teach me this language?"

It was such an innocent question but Jack's motive behind it – both the thirst for knowledge and the desire to comfort others – made all three of his father's smile but it was Cas who answered as he took the book back. Placing it back in the deepest pocket of his coat, right where his memories belonged, he said, "I will teach you anything you want to know to the best of my abilities."

There was another pause as Cas steeled himself for the most painful of his memories. "This vessel; his name was Jimmy Novak. He had a wife, Amelia, and a beautiful young daughter named Claire."

"Jimmy was a good man who deserved so much better than what happened to him and his family. What I did to them. What happened to Jimmy Novak will always be my greatest regret." The hurt and guilt cut through him almost as if it were a physical pain as he rested his hand on the folded fabric of the trench coat on his lap. "He was free from me. He didn't really understand what it meant to be a vessel for an angel. He was free but he came back to save his family. He died to save Claire, to save her from me."

At Jack's confused look, Sam explained in an effort to save his friend from even more pain in the retelling. "You've heard that Dean and I are the true vessels for Michael and Lucifer?"

At Jack's nod Sam continued. "In a lot of cases, the ability to be an angelic vessel passes on family lines. The only certain viable vessel available when Cas needed a new vessel after leaving Jimmy was his daughter, Claire."

"It can get pretty messy if an angel tries to take a vessel who's not pre-programed of sorts." Dean quickly added as Cas looked like he was about to jump in. Turning his attention to the angel in question. "You had no choice and I'm sure both Jimmy and Claire would tell you that if we asked them."

"I would not disturb Jimmy or Amelia now that they have finally found each other and found eternal rest in their heaven." Cas said with that edge of strength coming back to his voice. "Claire has, in fact, told me as much. She actually prayed for help on a hunt once. It was not one of my best moments but I was glad to be able to help her."

There was a lot, come to think of it, that Cas was proud of. As he maneuvered in the small space to put the trench coat back on. The same trench coat that Claire had reminded Jimmy to take before he had said yes to Castiel, the Angel of the Lord, the first time.

He was proud, even with the failures and losses, of the long road that he had traveled. He was definitely not the same angel who had stood on that beach with his brother watching that little grey fish struggle into it's uncertain future. Yet, mostly, Cas was proud of the family he had made for himself and the better angel that they were helping him become.

Looking over at Jack and smiling as the nephilim leaned forward to ask Sam what a part of his book meant, Cas thought that maybe he even had a chance to make a real difference to this world. Maybe, with his family by his side, he could change the world.


End file.
